The King's Daughter and Other Stories for Girls eBook

“I never look at the marginal references,”
said Kate, “though mine is a large Bible and
has them.”

“I find them such a help in comparing Scripture
with Scripture,” observed Lilian.

Kate was silent for several seconds. She had
been careful to read daily a large portion from the
Bible; but to “mark, learn, and inwardly digest
it,” she had never even thought of trying to
do. In a more humble tone she now asked her cousin,
“What is the word which is put in the margin
of the Bible instead of ‘another’ in that
difficult text?”

“A stranger” replied Lilian; and
then, clasping her hands, she repeated the whole passage
on which her soul had been feeding with silent delight:

“’Whom I shall see for myself, and mine
eyes shall behold, and not a stranger.’

[Illustration: “Whom I shall see for myself.”]

“O Kate,” continued the dying girl, while
unbidden tears rose to her eyes, “if you only
knew what sweetness I have found in that verse all
this morning while I have been in great bodily pain!
I am in the Valley of the Shadow—­I shall
soon cross the dark river; I know it: but He
will be with me, and ‘not a stranger.’
He is the Good Shepherd, and I know His voice; a stranger
would I not follow.

“Oh,” continued Lilian, “in the
glad resurrection morn, it is the Lord Jesus whom
I shall behold—­my own Saviour, my own tried
friend, and ’not a stranger;’ I shall
at last see Him whom, not having seen, I have loved.”

Lilian closed her eyes again, and the large drops,
overflowing, fell down her pallid cheeks; she had
spoken too long for her strength, but her words had
not been spoken in vain.

“Lilian has drawn more comfort and profit from
one verse—­nay, from three words in the
Bible, than I have drawn from the whole book,”
reflected Kate. “I have but read the Scriptures,—­she
has searched them. I have been like one floating
carelessly over the surface of waters under which
lie pearls; Lilian has dived deep and made the treasure
her own.”

[Illustration]

COURTESY TO STRANGERS

“Who was that quiet appearing girl that came
into church quite late, last Sabbath?” I asked
a friend of mine who was an active member in the church
which I had recently joined.

“Did she wear a striped shawl and a dark dress?”
inquired my friend. “If so, it was Annie
Linton, a girl who is a seamstress in Mr. Brown’s
shop.”

“I did not notice her clothes in particular,”
I answered, “but her face attracted me; I should
know it among a thousand faces. How could you
pass by a stranger so indifferently, Mrs. Greyson?
I expected that you would ask her to remain at Sabbath
school, and go into your Bible class, but you did
not once look at her.”

“I did not once think of it, and if I had, probably
she would not have accepted the invitation, as she
is a stranger in town, and undoubtedly will not remain
here long,” my friend replied quickly, by way
of defense.